


Stark Staring

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Adultery, Frottage, Invisible clothing, M/M, Tipsy sexual magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7035325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months into his studies with Mr Norrell, Mr Strange walks into the Hanover-square library one morning and finds his tutor apparently naked. Why? And why does Mr Norrell find it so embarrassing to look at Mr Strange? And why does Childermass see nothing odd in all this? Magic, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stark Staring

Mr Strange had been studying with the Greatest Magician of the Age, Gilbert Norrell, for six months now. Despite the fact that his teacher had a tedious lecturing style and was inclined to keep certain aspects of magic secret, Mr Strange was thrilled to be studying the subject with an experienced teacher. When he had been struggling to master it on his own, the whole business had been a hit-and-miss affair. Now there was a system to it, and the vastness of Mr Norrell’s library went beyond what he had ever imagined. Magic was such a thrilling subject that even Mr Norrell’s dull lectures seemed exciting, and when the two magicians sat down to discuss it more informally, they could go on for hours without noticing the time passing. For the past two months he had been learning actual spells from Mr Norrell. Performing them under his guidance had made him feel that he was making real progress toward his great goal of eventually becoming the second Greatest Magician of the Age. 

Over the past few weeks, however, Mr Strange had had several uneven days in his studies with Mr Norrell. Ordinarily he was adept at following his teacher’s instructions for performing spells, but suddenly it seemed as if every other time he tried to create an enchantment, something went wrong.

Mr Norrell did not seem worried about this, assuring him, “The path to magical accomplishment is not always a smooth one, Mr Strange. It takes long and devoted study, and one is bound to stumble occasionally in performing a spell for the first time. Your talent for magic is considerable, and you will master them all in the end.”

Strange acknowledged his patience and support politely, but he was still discouraged. Up until now he had encountered few problems in his lessons. Late one afternoon, having suffered another failure in casting what had seemed like a fairly routine spell, he sat brooding in his carriage on the way home.

As he entered the parlour, Arabella noticed his pensive mood. “Jonathan, you look so pale and drawn. Are you not feeling well?”

“Oh, I am quite fine, thank you. It’s just that I couldn’t manage to cast the spell Norrell has been teaching me. It did not seem particularly challenging, and yet …” He shrugged and threw himself carelessly down on a chair, staring into the fire and pondering the implications of his failure.

Over dinner Mr Strange remained despondent. “Mr Norrell has been very kind about my recent slow-wittedness. Still, I cannot help but feel that if I do not start performing better when answering his questions and casting the spells we study, he may ultimately give up on me and end our lessons. I must confess, I should be devastated if that happened. Magic is my profession by now, indeed my life’s calling. Mr Norrell had been thoroughly opposed to the existence of other magicians, and yet to my amazement he so enthusiastically accepted me as a pupil. It encouraged me a great deal, especially since we seem to have become friends—and he obviously does not make friends easily. I hate to disappoint him or try his patience. There is certainly no one else I could turn to for a magical education.”

Arabella looked at him with a combination of sympathy and amusement. “Really, Jonathan, I cannot imagine that Norrell would ever call a halt to teaching you. He is very fond of you, as I have mentioned before. More than fond, in my opinion. You should see the way he looks at you when you are absorbed in your reading. When I stopped by with the carriage to pick you up from Hanover-square the other day, I had to wait for a while by the fire in the library. I could easily see Mr Norrell as he sat at his desk. He looked over at you the way I looked at the first boy I ever thought I loved. I can’t even remember his name, but he sat on the opposite side of the aisle in church, and I could not keep my eyes off him. Norrell is the same way with you, staring with a tiny smile and a look of adoration when he thinks you do not notice—”

“Oh, please, Bell, do not be fanciful! Mr Norrell has a great faith in my potential as a magician, that is all. At first I was quite confident and thought that he was right in his judgment, but now I am not so sure.”

“Nonsense! I’m sure you are going through a temporarily difficult stretch. I would wager good money that Mr Norrell would never give up on you, no matter how long it takes him to teach you to be a magician. First, because I’m sure he rightly had confidence in your abilities and second, as I say, he is very fond of you.”

Mr Strange sighed. “Thank you, Bell. I am not as confident as you, but I appreciate your kind words.”

The dinner was really quite excellent, and he felt somewhat better by its end. Still, as his wife poured him a glass of port, he remained quieter than usual.

She stared at him for a moment and then asked with a little laugh, “Why don’t you cast a spell to make yourself more skillful at casting spells?” 

He smiled at her. “I doubt that would work. If it did, there would be more magicians, and more skillful ones at that, in this world.”

“No doubt. I was just teasing. Mostly,” she added. “Well, I am off to have a nice soak in a warm bath. Don’t stay up too late.”

After she had left, Strange chuckled softly as he thought about her suggestion. Magic could not make him a better magician. Only hard work could do that. Still, what if he were only to cast a simple, limited spell, just to make himself succeed in his lesson the next day? If it worked, the result might instill more confidence in him and would at least give Norrell a sense that he was making progress. At any cost, he wanted to maintain the other magician’s good opinion of him. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if he lost Mr Norrell’s support. Such a spell might be cheating in a sense, he supposed, and yet it might save his career as a magician. Was it really so unfair? If it succeeded, at least it would prove that he COULD cast a spell, and one that he conceived entirely on his own.

Strange got up and went over to the shelves where he kept his small personal collection of books of magic. He dipped into a few, looking for a modest spell of the sort he had in mind. Finally he found something that he thought would work. Hesitantly he murmured the introductory part and then concluded with a simple request: “… and allow me to be as successful as Mr Norrell at the spell that he casts for my lesson tomorrow.”

Was that precise enough? Norrell always emphasized precision in spell-casting. He thought back over the wording. Well, it certainly did not seem vague to him. It named the date when the magic was to occur and specified the people involved and made explicit the spell in which he wished to succeed—as explicit as possible, given that he did not know what spell that might be. 

Mr Strange read for a while before going to bed, and his last thought before falling asleep was to wonder if he would acquit himself better during his session with Norrell the next day. If his little spell failed to assist him, he would undoubtedly feel all the more discouraged about his progress.

+++++++++++++++++++++

The following morning a slight delay in the traffic between Soho-square and Hanover-square meant that, despite the relatively short distance, Strange arrived about twenty minutes later than was his custom. As usual, he rapped twice on the library door and went in. 

He had walked only a few steps across the room when he noticed something exceedingly peculiar. Norrell was sitting behind his desk as usual, and yet he had no clothes on. At least, the upper part of him visible to Strange was decidedly naked. He was wearing his wig but nothing else.

Norrell looked up at him as if rather startled to see him there and quickly returned his eyes to the papers on his desk. “Good morning, Mr Strange,” he said in a tight little voice.

Strange was completely taken aback but managed to stammer out, “Good … good morning, sir. Is everything … all right today?”

Norrell looked up very briefly. “Yes, yes, fine. What could possibly be wrong? I, um, trust that you have done your reading for today.”

Norrell was clearly nervous, and yet the cause did not seem to be his nakedness. Indeed, he did not appear to be aware that he had no clothes on. Could he have forgotten to get dressed, perhaps in his eagerness to try out some fascinating plans for a new magical experiment? His mentor was certainly capable of becoming intensely absorbed in his work, but such an oversight seemed quite absurdly eccentric even for him.

Norrell cleared his throat. “Last night it occurred to me that there is another relevant text that supplements the one you just read. Let me fetch it for you.”

He stood up and crossed to a shelf, running his fingers along a row of books and muttering to himself. Strange stood watching him, appalled. Not only had Norrell forgotten his shirt, vest and jacket, but he was utterly naked down to his toes. He noted that Mr Norrell had the soft, white skin of a man who has spent little time in the sun and who has been carefully bathed and pampered all his life. He had a slight paunch but on the whole was in reasonable condition for such a sedentary person. Strange supposed that, despite his tutor’s sweet tooth, his tendency to skip meals when particularly engrossed in his work had kept him fairly slim. He tried not to pay much attention to Mr Norrell’s private parts, and yet the man’s member was rather noticeable. If Strange had not known better, he would have jumped to the conclusion that Mr Norrell had the beginnings of an erection. Perhaps he was simply more generously endowed than Mr Strange would have expected. 

Just then Childermass entered the room, and Strange felt a profound sense of relief. Mr Norrell’s man of business had been with him for many years and was used to taking care of him and protecting him. He could assume responsibility for dealing with this most peculiar situation.

Childermass nodded as he passed Strange, saying, “Good morning, sir,” and moving to Norrell’s desk. He glanced quickly through the stack of mail there and looked at his master. “Is there anything you need for me to do right now, Mr Norrell, sir?”

“Besides fetching him some clothes to put on,” Mr Strange thought with a wince.

Mr Norrell had pulled down the book he had been looking for and returned to his desk. “No, nothing in particular, Childermass.”

“Fine. I’ll have a look through those two booksellers’ catalogues that arrived yesterday, then, shall I?”

“Yes, do. The one from Mr Waterbury may prove fruitful. I have few hopes for the other, but check it anyway, just in case.”

Childermass nodded, turned and walked over to his own little desk, acting for all the world as if nothing unusual was happening that morning. Mr Strange wondered if perhaps occasional nudity on Mr Norrell’s part was less uncommon than he would have believed and if Childermass therefore simply took it in his stride.

Mr Norrell held out the book to Mr Strange. “You might just look through the last chapter of that. We could discuss its relation to what you read last night and the authors’ arguments on the question of the efficacy of shielding spells versus repelling spells. Such a topic may sound rather tedious, and indeed it can be, but I am finding both types highly useful in the magic against the French which I am able to do for the ministry.”

Mr Strange attempted unsuccessfully to ignore his teacher’s naked body as he took the book and responded, “Of course, sir. I have no doubt that such spells are quite valuable in time of war.”

Norrell nodded and quickly turned and moved to his desk. He picked up and thumbed through the stack of mail that had proven so uninteresting to Childermass.

Mr Strange plucked up his courage and said softly, “Excuse me, sir, would you mind putting up the spell of silence so that we may talk more privately?” He glanced over at Childermass, who was paying them no attention.

Mr Norrell often put up a barrier of silence during their lessons, not wishing for Childermass to learn more magic than the little that his master allowed him to. He saw nothing usual in the request and immediately cast the simple spell. He turned to Mr Strange expectantly.

“Mr Norrell, sir, might you have forgotten something in relation to your clothes this morning?”

Mr Norrell’s eyes widened and he stared at Mr Strange in some alarm. “Clothes, Mr Strange? Something about your … your clothes?”

“No, I was referring to yours, sir. Whether you might have, um, forgotten something?”

Mr Norrell glanced down, apparently at his own bare chest and said somewhat apologetically, “I hope that you do not mind my receiving you in such a very informal state.”

Mr Strange hastened to reply, “Uh, no, no, whatever you prefer to wear … or not wear … is quite agreeable to me. It really is up to you. It just seems a bit unusual.”

“Well, I am surprised to hear you say so. After all, I have several times conducted our lessons in such informality.” He ran one hand down his chest and stomach. “I realize that shirtsleeves and a banyan are probably not considered normal attire for teaching one’s pupils, but I do find it comfortable to dress thus when I am not expected to leave my home to call upon government officials or to welcome them here on official business. Such is the case today, I am happy to say. But I like to think that you, Mr Strange, are my friend as well as my pupil, and as I have come to know, you are not one to stand upon convention.” During this speech Mr Norrell’s glance moved around the room, lighting anywhere but on Mr Strange.

Mr Strange stared at his teacher during this speech, his eyes dropping to the man’s torso, seeking in vain for a glimpse of a banyan or a shirt or any other item of clothing. There were only two possible explanations. Mr Norrell might have gone suddenly mad overnight, which seemed highly unlikely. Surely Childermass would have noticed and remarked upon his master’s lack of attire. More likely, his teacher had performed magic. Yes, somehow Mr Norrell’s clothing must have been magicked away, but in a fashion that only his pupil could perceive. But why?

“Mr Norrell,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, “might you have been performing some sort of a spell that possibly went a trifle awry?”

Mr Norrell frowned at him, and his eyes flicked quickly down Mr Strange’s body from head to foot and then back up to his face. “I did cast a spell last night, I must admit, but it seems to have worked exactly as I intended it to.” He was, Mr Strange noted, blushing quite deeply.

Mr Strange was baffled. He wondered whether he should ask Mr Norrell about the spell. There could be some repercussions from the man’s nakedness. Perhaps the other magician had cast a spell, intending to appear naked only in Mr Strange’s eyes—for some reason or other—and yet, should he leave the house, at least some others might see him in the same way. It would cause a scandal. He had to speak, though it was extremely embarrassing to query his own teacher as to why he should wish to appear naked to his pupil.

“May I ask why, sir, you would cast a spell to make your clothes appear invisible … to me at any rate, and possibly to others?”

Norrell stared at him in horror and clapped his hands over his private area. “My clothes?! You don’t mean to tell me that, to you, I am … nude!”

Strange looked away abruptly and stared at a particularly uninteresting painting on the wall. “I’m afraid so, sir.”

Mr Norrell’s mouth dropped slightly open. “But that was not supposed to—”

He stopped abruptly and stared at Mr Strange in horror and disbelief. “Truly, I appear naked to you, Mr Strange?” He again looked down at himself and then at Mr Strange, shrugging slightly and adding, “But can’t you see that I am fully clothed?” 

“No, sir, I see nothing on your body apart from your wig. Which, I suppose, answers the burning question as to whether a wig is in fact an item of clothing.” He chuckled feebly.

Mr Norrell ignored this, dithering for a moment before blurting out, “But Mr Strange, YOU are the one who appears to be wearing no clothing!”

Mr Strange laughed nervously. “Oh, come, sir, surely you are jesting. You can see that I am fully clothed. I could hardly have traveled through the streets and arrived outside your house without being so.”

“No, no, I mean that you appear naked only to me. Others would indeed see you as clothed. I’m sure Childermass does.” He stared into Mr Strange’s eyes, struggling not to let his eyes drop to examine the charms he had glimpsed upon fleetingly inspecting them ever since his pupil’s arrival.

Mr Strange’s laughter faded and a horrified look took its place. He, too, clasped his hands on the front of his breeches. Noticing that Childermass had looked over at them and was staring curiously at their odd poses, the two magicians unclasped their hands and sat down casually in two chairs opposite each other and assumed ordinary, calm little smiles. They stared determinedly at each other’s faces, trying to appear as though they were discussing Mr Strange’s latest assigned reading.

Maintaining his polite smile, Mr Strange said in a tense voice, “You mentioned that the spell you had cast did exactly what you intended it to do. Presumably you cast it because you wanted to see me unclothed.” 

Mr Norrell’s face twisted with remorse. “Oh, Mr Strange, I am so sorry! I never should have had that second glass of Madeira-wine last night! It was a rather full glass, too.” He indicated the depth to which the glass had been filled with his thumb and finger, held about an inch apart.

Mr Strange shook his head and tsked at the sight.

Norrell went on, looking very uncomfortable. “It made me most incautious, I am afraid … and rude, terribly rude. I should never have done such a thing. I do apologize! My only excuse is that … oh, you are so very handsome and well-formed and strong … and I was irresistibly curious about what you look like, um, underneath your clothes. But really, there is no excuse for such an action, none at all, especially such a secretive one.”

Mr Strange began to smile faintly as he listened. True, it was a very incautious and rude thing for someone to do, and yet he found that he did not feel particularly upset that Mr Norrell had wanted such an intimate view of him. Mr Norrell was so innocent and shy about such things that it seemed almost charming that he would conceive a covert plan to satisfy his curiosity through magic. He thought back to what Arabella had said about Mr Norrell’s fascination with, nay, adoration of him. He had dismissed the idea so readily, and yet apparently his teacher was not only fond of him but desired him. To his surprise, he was not particularly shocked by the idea. Moreover, he had to admit that he was rather enjoying the unexpected sight of Mr Norrell in a similar condition. Which raised the question of how that unexpected sight had come about.

“Do not trouble yourself unduly, sir. I accept your apology. In a way, your curiosity is most flattering! But did you also intend to make your own clothes invisible, or was that merely an accidental side-effect of your spell?”

Despite his regret and embarrassment, Norrell frowned in puzzlement, trying to imagine what could have gone wrong with his spell. Finally he said falteringly, “I’m quite sure … that is, I cannot imagine what I could have done wrong. I was of course determined that no one but me should be able to see you as I currently do, so I was even more precise than usual in wording the spell. And yet apparently something did go wrong. Again, I’m profoundly sorry, Mr Strange. I’m sure you would prefer not to see me en dishabille. After all, I am not nearly as attractive as you.”

He glanced down longingly at Strange’s body and noticed to his surprise that the man’s member was not entirely flaccid. He knew his own had been slowly achieving a similar state since Mr Strange’s arrival, and his blush deepened as he realized that Mr Strange must be aware of his condition. Indeed, Mr Strange was also blushing and casting occasional furtive glances at his master’s lap. Mr Norrell felt quite puzzled by such attention, and yet it gave him a glimmer of hope that—

Suddenly light dawned in Mr Strange’s face and he said, “Sir, it occurs to me that I myself cast a spell last night. Not one to make your clothes invisible, to be sure, but one that might have unintentionally had that effect. I … I have been a trifle discouraged by my poor performance in some of our recent lessons, and as a result I recited a little spell. I worded it to make me as adept at performing the spell you had prepared for my lesson the next day as you yourself would be.”

“Oh, dear! Yes, if that is approximately the wording of your spell, it is distinctly ambiguous. It suggests that you might wish to perform the same spell as I did, and you do not specify that the spell should be one I prepared for you to learn during your lesson. It could be any spell I cast in relation to that lesson. Of course, in my own spell, I specified that I wished to …” He cleared his throat nervously again and continued, “… to observe you intimately for the length of today’s lesson. I cannot emphasize enough, Mr Strange, how important each and every word in a spell is to the overall success of its casting.”

Mr Strange sighed in some frustration at being told something he had heard numerous times from Mr Norrell, though he had to admire his teacher’s ability to lecture him on precision in spell-casting while sitting across from him utterly naked and with a noticeable erection. He mentally corrected himself. Apparently utterly naked and with a very noticeable erection.

“Indeed, sir, I shall be more careful in future. I admit that you did not make any such mistake. Your own spell, however unwise in its nature, worked exactly as you intended it to. There was no flaw. The fault was entirely mine, and I think it is safe to say that I shall never forget this object lesson in precision in spell-casting.”

“Yes, good. Well, thank you for mentioning your spell. That relieves my mind about my own. Unwise though it was, I am happy to learn that it did function correctly.”

Mr Strange shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Clearly there was another part of Mr Norrell that had not been relieved by their conversation. Quite the contrary, it was larger than when he had first noticed it. He had to admit that he needed exactly the same sort of relief himself. Why in the world he should have this reaction to seeing his stuffy tutor naked and rampant puzzled him greatly. Perhaps it was a combination of his affection for Mr Norrell and his unexpected discovery that the other magician quite obviously desired him. In addition, there were his sudden imaginings of what his tutor might wish to do with him. Now that they had confessed all to each other, Mr Norrell was no longer making any pretense of not looking at his pupil’s naked body. On the contrary, he was staring quite avidly at Mr Strange’s muscular torso and his impressive erection.

Eventually, however, despite his pleasure at learning that his spell had worked as intended, Mr Norrell sighed and looked quite despondent. He tore his eyes away from Mr Strange’s body and looked once more into his face. “I think the only logical thing for me to do is to reverse my spell. If you no longer appear naked to me, this whole unfortunate incident will be ended and we will be able to work without the considerable distraction of our apparent nudity. Presumably once my spell is no longer in force, yours, too, will cease to function. We will both look to each other as we usually do. Clothed, I mean to say. It will be a simple matter for me to speak the counterspell.”

Mr Norrell made as if to stand up, but Mr Strange raised a hand to stop him. The other magician settled back into his seat, looking quizzically at his pupil.

Mr Strange hesitated but forged ahead. “Do we really, though, wish to ignore the implications of your spell, sir? They should be obvious to us both.”

He glanced down into his own lap, where there was a distinct bulge in his breeches, and then over at Mr Norrell’s cock, visibly standing at attention. Mr Norrell looked at the same two erect members in the opposite order. His banyan had parted when he sat down, and his breeches placket was undeniably uplifted. The state—and size—of Mr Strange’s naked member nearly made him forget that casting his spell had been a very incautious and rude idea. The results were so very fascinating.

He pulled himself together and replied sadly, “Mr Strange, I can hardly ask anything of you, what with you being a married man. You surely would not look beyond the marital bed for such pleasures, and even if you did, it would certainly not be at another man and particularly not me.”

“So I would have thought yesterday, but today I find that my desires have, well, extended further than I would have believed. You can see the effects that you and your spell have had upon me. And if I wish to explore such desire—well, that is my private decision to make.”

Mr Norrell stared at him, breathing heavily. He began slowly to wring his hands. “Really, I assure you, at the time all I wanted was to see you unclothed, just for this once. Frankly, I … I wished to have an image of you to keep in my mind at night, when I give myself solitary pleasure.”

Mr Strange was touched. “Really, you would think of me when you frig yourself?”

“Oh, is that what it’s called? Well, yes, I have done so ever since you paid me your second visit and performed your marvelous feat of magic for me. You are my ideal of a beautiful man.” He smiled slightly. “As always, I wanted precision, in this case in knowing exactly how you would appear when … when unclothed.”

Mr Strange felt somewhat taken aback and oddly disappointed. “Oh! If you do not wish for us to exchange pleasure in reality rather than in your fancies, then I suppose I must give up any thought of our enjoying each other. But surely you would wish for more if I were willing … and I assure you, I am. In fact, just talking about it is making me more anxious by the moment!”

A glance into Mr Strange’s lap assured Mr Norrell that this claim was no exaggeration. He looked up into Mr Strange’s face with a growing expression of hopeful delight.

Mr Strange looked over at Childermass, now once again thoroughly engrossed in writing some letters on Mr Norrell’s behalf.

“Could we not retire to some place more private to continue this conversation—and what I hope will be more than conversation? Childermass may not be able to hear us, but he will surely see what we do. And doing what we hope to do while appearing fully clothed would be an odd sight indeed, I should think!”

Mr Norrell was breathing more heavily than before. “Oh, Mr Strange! If you wish … of course, I … well, it would be rather odd for us to retire to my bedroom. I suspect the maids are up in that area of the house, doing something or other. But perhaps the sitting-room? It is seldom used, except when I have a queue of government officials waiting to consult me. I could not only lock the door but also put up some spells to assure us complete privacy.” Planning out the means of achieving that privacy relieved Mr Norrell of some of his embarrassment concerning their proposed intimacy.

Mr Strange was becoming more eager by the moment. “Anywhere! As long as we can retire there without arousing speculations about our activities.”

The two moved to the sitting-room, executed the necessary spells and sat down beside each other on a large sopha. As each reached out to touch the naked torso he faced, seeking to embrace it, Mr Norrell’s hands encountered Mr Strange’s invisible (to him) clothes, and Mr Strange’s hands did the same with those of Mr Norrell. They drew apart slightly.

Mr Strange sighed impatiently. “My dear sir, I would very much enjoy the pleasure of undressing you, but I unfortunately would be very clumsy and slow in doing so, not being able to see the buttons and so forth. I very much would like to have you genuinely naked as soon as possible.”

“I feel the same, Mr Strange. I fear we must settle for undressing ourselves … at least, this time,” he added, with cautious optimism.

Impatiently each stood up and undid his own garments, tossing them aside. They embraced fully and tightly this time, gasping with desire at the feeling of their actually naked bodies pressing against each other. They ran their hands over each other’s chests and shoulders and backs. Soon they were moaning softly with pleasure each time fingers moved over a sensitive spot. Their erections, which had flagged somewhat during the move into the sitting-room, quickly returned to their full states.

Mr Strange said breathily, “I have never been with a man in this way. I’m afraid I really don’t know what men do with each other, but presumably you do.”

“No, on the contrary. I have never done this either and know little more than you. In fact, I suspect that by being married to a lady, you know more than I about what we could do. Some of the things must be the same. For example, we might begin by kissing.”

Mr Strange put his hands on Mr Norrell’s shoulders and smiled as he looked into the man’s eager face. “That sounds like a very good start.”

Mr Norrell’s notion of kissing seemed to be that the two participants would press their puckered lips together and suck slightly. Mr Strange rapidly dispelled this notion, sucking eagerly at the other magician’s lips and teasing them with his tongue. Mr Norrell moaned softly and relaxed his lips, allowing Mr Strange to take the lead, gently invading and exploring him. Gradually he dared to rub his tongue against Mr Strange’s, and they deepened the kiss.

At last they pulled slightly apart as Mr Strange grinned at his friend. Mr Norrell whispered, “Is that all right?”

Mr Strange nodded. “Yes. Just more of the same, please, only wetter and deeper and hotter.”

Mr Norrell stared at him in surprised delight. “That sounds very appealing.”

They resumed kissing, their mouths opening further and pressing together harder. They were panting by now, and their tongues writhed against each other. Mr Strange pulled his tutor hard against his body, and Mr Norrell grasped handfuls of Mr Strange’s hair and pressed his wide-open mouth against his lover’s.

Soon Mr Norrell felt his legs wobbling, and he fell backward onto the sopha, pulling the other magician on top of him. “Oh, Mr Strange, do … I need …” He slid his hand down Mr Strange’s muscular stomach and caressed his rampant member eagerly.

Mr Strange looked down at him uncertainly and then climbed onto the sopha, planting his knees on either side of Mr Norrell’s thighs. He towered over Mr Norrell, who looked up at him delightedly, running his hands over the powerful torso above him and pinching Mr Strange’s nipples softly. Mr Strange lowered himself slightly, pressing down on Mr Norrell and began to thrust so that their stiff cocks rubbed together. Mr Norrell gasped and moaned at the sensation and rutted upward.

Their movements were so erratic, however, that their erections slid away from each other rather than cooperating by keeping contact as they moved. 

Mr Norrell whimpered in frustration. “Mr Strange, please!”

Mr Strange instinctively grasped both cocks in one of his long-fingered hands and squeezed, thrusting hard against Mr Norrell’s member and frigging both of them. 

“Oh, yes, Mr Strange!” Mr Norrell moaned, pushing upward against Mr Strange’s erection. They gasped and grunted softly as they continued to rub against each other within Mr Strange’s hand. As the pair felt their climaxes building, Mr Norrell became frantically active, scrabbling with his feet against the floor and sopha, squirming and trying to pull Mr Strange down closer against his body. “Oh, Mr Strange!” he kept saying.

Mr Strange was panting and trying to keep up the rhythm of his hand pulling at their cocks. “Mr … Gilbert, if I … may. Don’t move so wildly. I can’t … Ow!”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mr Strange!”

“No matter! It’s nothing. And please, call me Jonathan.”

Mr Norrell raised his legs and wrapped them around Mr Strange’s hips, and he thrust harder until his ecstasy hit him, and he thrashed under his lover. His movements jerked at Mr Strange’s cock wildly, making him spill his seed across their naked torsos, mixing with that of Mr Norrell.

Once he had finished, Mr Strange sat heavily down beside Mr Norrell. There was a short interval of panting and hand-holding and grinning at each other.

At last Mr Norrell said, “That was … simply glorious! Do you know, I think if we had a clearer idea of how men ordinarily go about such intimacy, it would be even better.”

Mr Strange chuckled. “No doubt! Well, actually I have one notion of how it’s done. It’s something that women can do for men, and, in a somewhat different way, men can do it for women. But it should be, well, quite adaptable to our situation.”

“Oh, really? That’s marvelous! What does it involve?”

“Well, we can, um, use our mouths on each other to create a similar pleasure.”

“Oh!” Mr Norrell sat thinking happily about that prospect.

“Yes. I also have a vague idea about something else, though I wish there could be some way to research it.”

“Oh, you mean sodomy, I presume.”

“Um, yes. You have heard of it, I gather.”

“Well, given that there are laws that could cost me my freedom or even my life if I were caught performing such an action, yes, I know about it. That there is such a law, that is. How it’s done, I have only the haziest of notions.”

“But Gilbert … or would you prefer that I continue to address you as Mr Norrell?”

“Well, when we are alone, I should be quite charmed if we could address each other so informally … Jonathan.”

“Good! Well, Gilbert, I take it you are assuming we shall be doing this kind of thing again.”

Mr Norrell said hesitantly, “Yes, I was assuming, or at least hoping, that we might. After all, you did not hesitate at all in deciding to … to …”

“To break my wedding vows?” He frowned. “No, I did not, I must admit. The whole confusion about our apparent nakedness was surprisingly arousing.” He put his arm around Mr Norrell’s shoulders, and the other magician drew up his legs and nestled against him. “I should be quite sad if we did not explore such pleasures further. But what about my wife, you may well ask. Bell is so uninterested in magic that she inquires little about what you and I do here all day. I tell her something of it, of course, but she has a limited patience for my anecdotes. Oddly enough, she does know that you find me attractive. In fact, it was she who first planted that idea in my head. I’m sure, though, that she would never believe you would be so bold as to act upon that attraction. So, in short, what she does not know cannot hurt her … I hope. And I do wish for us to go on exploring what sorts of pleasure we can give each other.”

Mr Norrell smiled in delight. “Yes. If you know how we might use our mouths on each other and once we somehow find out what sodomy involves on a practical level, we shall have a most rewarding relationship. I must ask you, however, never to use a spell to improve your performance in learning the magic involved in your lessons. As I have said before, you are a marvelous magician, Mr Strange … Jonathan … and I assure you that the few mistakes you might make during our casting of spells are really nothing to worry about. I would never give up on teaching you.” He gave a tiny chuckle. “Especially not now!”

Mr Strange grinned. “Yes, of course, I promise that I shall never again cast a spell to make myself more competent during our lessons. But I also insist that you should never cast one to allow you to see me naked. I assure you, I shall strip off my clothing any time you wish me to do so and we are in sufficiently private circumstances!”


End file.
